„The sun that rises is the color of steel. His mounted shadow falls for miles before him.“
(Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian)
There is little but soil and an endless dawn. Red sandstone, heat, emptiness and the wind sweeping through the steppe. A litany of seemingly endless emptiness and barren landscape. The afterlife of a western, a blended landscape composed of backgrounds. The sand is a uniform mass. each stone is a template of another. A version of a version of a version.
